What We're Made Of
by JACmRob
Summary: iPod shuffle challenge round II. Dasey, one-sided Dasey, random pairings. Angst. Read & Review!
1. Round I

What We're Made Of

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**1. Dammit, Blink-182**

Derek sighed. Another fight with Kendra. He knew she'd been cheating all along, he just hadn't wanted to come to terms with it. So called "great Derek Venturi." Falling back onto his bed, he found himself missing the days when relationships lasted a week and never got past first base. The only thing 'long-term' initiated was a whole lot of bullshit.

And despite this he'd stuck with her and _tried_, Jesus he'd tried, to make it work. For what? To hear her say "it was nothing, Derek" for the eightieth time and slam her door in his face? To listen to his friends complain about how she jerked him around, and when he tried to defend her he'd be left speechless? At least he'd ended it, and this time, for good. There was a knock on his door.

"Come in!" he called. Casey walked through the threshold, with a gallon of icecream and a spoon in her arms. Sitting next to him, she offered him the container. Despite the situation, he raised his eyebrows.

"You know this stuff only works on chicks, right?"

"I wouldn't be so sure," she replied.  
Sighing, he grabbed a spoon and dug in.

"I guess this is growing up."

**2. Feeling This, Blink-182**

Derek pushed her up against the wall, pressing her lips to his. He felt her hair in his hands, the burn of her skin. He lay kisses down her neck, rough, passionate, and his blood pounded as she whispered his name. The air was steamy—he could taste it—he could taste her—only a towel separated their skin. He could feel the moisture. He pushed her to the floor, pulling her on top of him, feeling the cold tile on his back and the smell of her face, hands, hair—

Derek sat up in bed, heart still pounding, still feeling her strewn out across him. But she wasn't. He fell back on the pillows and buried his face in his hands, trying to memorize every detail of the dream before it slipped away. She was asleep in the next room and he, he was wide awake again.

**3. Wonderwall, Oasis**

Beep. "_Sixteen-year-old white male sustaining head lacerations and severe internal damage"_—"Derek, please wake up we need you—Beep. "—_in a comatose state_"—"Derek fight- I know you can-"—Beep. "—_apply 24 milligrams analgesia_"—"Derek don't you dare die on me"—Beep. "—_unlikely to wake up_"—"I love you."

Her voice. He opened his eyes.

**4. I'm Ready, Jack's Mannequin**

George watched from the window as she slammed the front door, as she packed her suitcase in the car, as she drove away. As she didn't look back. There was so much he was still fighting to say, to save their marriage, to get her to stay. God, the kids were so young! Marti was only one. How could he raise them on his own? How could he raise them when all he could think about was her, and her final goodbye? And how the words seemed so sincere still her eyes were blank and cold. He wanted nothing more than to break down, fall apart, when Edwin asked when mommy was coming home or when he saw Derek still watching the street, tears silently slipping down his face. But it was now that he couldn't.

And in spite of the gnawing pain in his chest, and the constant beating of his heart reminding him he was alive, he was ready. She had left, and taken a piece of him with her, but he knew he could get by—he had to get by—and he would. She was gone. He picked up the phone and dialed the number so well worn that the keys were fading, He said only two words.

"Don't call."

**4. Soar, Christina Aguilera**

Lizzie grazed the brush across her face. The blush stained the apples of her cheeks a pale pink. She examined the reflection in the mirror with distaste. Plain, boring, ordinary. She smeared some lip-gloss across her lips. It felt strange and sticky, but was a small improvement. Unscrewing a Casey's mascara she winced as she brought the wand up to her eye and unsteadily touched her lash with it. She tried again, but her shaking hand veered off course and she stabbed her eye instead.

Lizzie yelped and dropped the wand squeezing her eye shut and cringing forward as it watered. When her eye stopped throbbing, she examined the damage. Her eye was red and irritated, while the surrounding area was stained black from the makeup.

"I can't do this!" she shrieked, throwing down the makeup in frustration.

"Then don't."

She spun around and saw Edwin standing in the doorway, looking abashed. He shrugged, and said,

"I think you're pretty enough without it."

**5. Dance Hall Drug, Boys Like Girls**

Emily parked her car and flipped down the mirror. She touched up on her mascara and reapplied a bit of lip gloss, before leaving the car. She could hear the music even from the street. Heart pounding with excitement she walked up the drive and into the house.

The music pulsated, and in it sound came from all around her: people talking, laughing, heaving… From behind her someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around and found herself gazing into deep blue eyes. The boy was gorgeous—if she were Casey, she would call it love at first sight, but she didn't believe that sort of thing. But she was sixteen, and ready to take a chance. He didn't say anything, not that she could have heard it over the music, only gave her a beer and took her hand.

They were upstairs—how did they get there?—and he was kissing her and then—where did the clothes go?—and suddenly—to say no?—and his body was on top of hers—and she felt him—

She woke up the next morning, alone. And even her headache couldn't hide the memories.

**6. Check Yes Juliet, We the Kings**

She woke up in the middle of the night to a faint tapping. Groggily, she sat up and searched her room for the origin of the noise. Something rapped against the window. Confused, she staggered out of bed and over to the wall, opening her window and poking her head out. A smile crept across her face as she recognized the messy brown hair and dopey grin of the silhouette. Derek. She ran out of the room, downstairs, and outside, where she wrapped her arms around him and placed a kiss on his lips. He returned it, running his fingers through her mussed hair. She held him tight and whispered,

"You know your room's only next-door."

**7. All That I've Got, The Used**

He stamped out a cigarette and lit a new one, sucking on it and letting out a puff of smoke. He hadn't even seen it coming. One week everything was fine, and the next, she was breaking up with him. And for no good reason at all! She needed "space," and "time to figure herself out." Ha. He only tried to buy that bullcrap because it was better than considering the alternative. But he'd be just fine. He'd known all along that Casey was never his girl. She was always Derek's.

And he somehow seemed relieved, to be breaking it off. Maybe then she'd stop haunting him. He'd be just fine.

"Screw you, Casey Mcdonald," Max muttered, throwing the cigarette to the ground and leaving it to burn.

**8. Nobody's Home, Averil Lagvine**

The tears dripped from her eyes as she took another gulp. The vodka burned her throat but she didn't care. She couldn't erase Derek's face, after he'd seen the needle—the look in his eyes—it hurt so much but everything else hurt more. She'd tried to explain, but he'd only cut her off.

"Save it, Mom. Do you think you can give a legitimate reason as to why you're on drugs? Just stay away from us now."

The loathing and bitterness in his voice, the jagged edge—she wanted nothing more than to hold him again like when he was little, but there was nothing left for her. They were so happy together, like a real family, like a family that she never had. She'd struggled so hard through the years to try and quit, but then she'd see them, and it was like she had no place anymore. And it hurt, that she was never needed, never wanted. She remembered when George had filed for a divorce after she'd come home drunk and slapped one of her children. She'd wrapped the scarf around her neck, knocked the chair over, felt it tighten as she strained to breath, as her head swam, as her vision blurred…

But she hadn't died. And now she wanted nothing more than to go back to that feeling of letting go. But here she was again, hated by her children, abandoned by her husband, left by her family. Utterly alone. On the bathroom floor again.

**9. Reason to Believe, Dashboard Confessional**

He sat beside the bed like a statue, unable to even look at her. He couldn't stand seeing her like this. She was so beautiful, and it showed, even through the cuts and tubes and wires. The machines hooked up to her beeped steadily. He took her limp hand, unsure of what to say.

"Hey Case," he whispered shakily. "It's… Derek. Listen, you're going to be okay. You will, Case, I promise. You just need to breathe. Wake up. Come back."

He stroked her bruised face, tucking back a tendril of hair. The walls were so white.

"Please Case, breathe. I know you're the reason I do."

**10. Stolen, Dashboard Confessional**

They had never needed words. They used them all the time, bickering, discussing, playing, conversing. But they were never needed. He liked it better that way, when she would crawl into his bed at night and curl up in his arms, laying her head just below his chin. He'd slowly stroke her hair, and breathe in her scent, until they both fell asleep. When she danced, she'd spin around in her heels and he'd watch her, and she didn't need words. He could already tell.

And even when they'd tell each other they loved each other, it wasn't needed. He couldn't find words to describe how he felt when he looked at her, held her, and even she, being so articulate, couldn't really find a way to say it either. But she didn't need to. Just looking into her eyes was enough.

Fin

Read & Review guys, my first fic!


	2. Round II

What We're Made Of II

Round two of the iPod shuffle challenge.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

**1. Speeding Cars, Imogen Heap**

He woke up alone that morning. Casey knew because she had seen her leave, so much earlier, after pulling on his clothes, not even taking her lacy black bra off the floor. She didn't say anything when he dragged himself down stairs, silent and brooding, resting his head on the counter with a mug of black coffee. He didn't sleep much anymore, except when she was there, but she would never stay for long. And somehow Casey knew he lived for those midnight visits when she would want him, however briefly. He'd rather have her when he could and face waking up alone the next morning than not have her at all.

Casey could never be like that. Instead, she'd lie awake as well, knowing all that separated them was a thin plaster wall, and choose to turn her back. Because it hurt enough to see him chase after her without knowing what might've been. She was never able to take risks, or throw herself out there utterly and completely. Instead, she held back. Just out of reach.

And so they'd both lie awake at night holding on to the false hope of acceptance. He would always be thinking of her. Of Sally. But Casey, she would be thinking of him.

_I've watched you slowly winding down for years  
You can't keep on like this  
Now is as bad of time as any  
There, there, baby  
It's just text book stuff  
It's in the ABC of growing up  
Now, now, darlin'  
Oh don't kill yourself  
'Cause none of us were angels  
And you know I love you, yeah._

**2. Dig, Incubus**

He'd always counted on her. To call him on it, whenever his bullshit went too far. To keep him in line, and use her "moral compass," or whatever the hell it was. The point being, she rationalized him. Because she had seen he was a good person, deep down. And he needed her to remind him of this every once in a while. He didn't realize he needed her more.

Sitting in the hospital's waiting room, Derek's hands were shaking. He flipped out his cell phone to check the time so often he'd _memorized_ it; he just needed something to do with his hands. Anything to stall this _waiting_, this agonizing waiting, where his mind kept replaying the scene in his head. He saw it over and over, like a skipping disc. Gritting his teeth, he clenched the armrests of the chair to stop his hands from trembling. Someone sat next to him.

"She'll be okay," Casey whispered. He didn't answer. "She's a tough kid. You know that."

"But what if she's _not_." His voice sounded croaky, as if his vocal chords weren't working properly. He cleared his throat. "If I had just been watching her—I went to answer the phone—"

"It wasn't your fault," she said firmly. He just shook his head. "It was an accident—no one knew that window was open. You know how Marti gets."

Before he could respond, a medic in blue scrubs came back through the door of the OR.

_We all have a weakness  
But some of ours are easy to identify. Look me in the eye_

_If I turn into another  
Dig me up from under what is covering  
The better part of me.  
Sing this song  
Remind me that we'll always have each other  
When everything else is gone._

**3. The Rock Show, Blink-182**

The music pulsated. The screams around him were so deafening he doubted his hearing would ever fully return. Bright lights flashed across the stage, but Sam wasn't looking. His eyes were on the girl beside him. She had thrown her hand up in the air and was shouting with the rest of the crowd, curly brown hair streaked across her face. Her eyes were bright. And despite the fact that his favorite band was ten feet away, Sam felt there was a better show right beside him. Emily Davis.

_Everything's better when she's around  
I can't wait 'til her parents go  
Out of town  
I fell in love with the girl at the  
Rock show_

**4. Kill the Messenger, Jack's Mannequin**

"Are you sure?" The words came out in a jerky whisper.

She nodded.

His eyes widened as he stared at the little pink plus-sign.

"I have to go, Kendra," he said automatically.

She didn't say anything, but stood there holding the pregnancy test as the rain coursed down her cheeks, dampening her hair. Watching his retreating figure, she shivered in her wet clothing, feeling so small and scared. Unable to do this on her own. Unable to do this at all. She stood in the street long after he was gone, holding a hand across her abdomen and mixing the rain on her cheeks with tears.

_Kill the messenger  
I swear it's not me  
It's just someone I used to know  
And get to church cause you're a good girl  
And I never told you that_

_And all I need from you  
Could be the thing that  
Leaves us both up here forever  
I'm gonna send a little rain your way_

**5. Seven Minutes in Heaven, Fall Out Boy**

He wasn't used to sitting out dances on the wall. He always had at least one girl on top of him, but somehow tonight he wasn't in the mood to dance. He stared sullenly out onto the floor, one couple catching his eye. They were rotating on the middle of the floor; she had her head rested across his shoulder, long, sweeping brown hair hanging loose. Her eyes were closed and a faint smile was on her lips; she was clinging to him like she was the luckiest girl in the world. Max, who should have been feeling like the luckiest guy in the world wasn't even looking at Casey, but was gawking at some slutty blonde chick who was swaying with one of the football players.

Scowling, he drained the rest of his punch. The song ended and most of the couples broke apart. Telling himself that Derek Venturi was not the desperate type, he walked over to the slutty blonde whom Max was still eyeballing, giving Derek the suspicious feeling he would ditch Casey the minute she went to get a drink. He tapped her on the shoulder and when she turned around gave her his best Derek Venturi smile.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked.

She latched onto his arm and he smirked as he passed Max and Casey. Casey glared at him, believing that this was just one of his womanizing schemes. She'd never see him the way he saw her. Still, he thought, eying the blonde, second-rate company was better than no company at all.

_I keep telling myself  
I keep telling myself  
I'm not the desperate type_

_I'm sitting out dances on the wall  
Trying to forget everything that isn't you  
I'm not going home alone  
Cause I don't do too well on my own_

**6. Breathe, Michelle Branch**

"Why are you doing this?" she cried.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said despairingly. "How do you think I feel to always be shunted aside, to always be second?"

"Second to who?"

"Derek!" he shouted. "I see the way you two are around each other, the way you look at each other, the way your eyes light up when he enters the room!" And I spent all that time wishing, just _wishing_, you'd look at me like that!"

"Noel, don't go!" she called. And then quieter, "Please."

He turned around to face her.

"Why? Give me one good reason why I should stay."

"Because I care about you," she said in a small voice.

"But you don't love me, not like you love Derek, and you never will."

As Casey watched him leave, her heart breaking. But what hurt the most was that she knew he was right.

_So just give me one good reason  
Tell me why I should stay  
'Cause I don't want to waste another moment  
In saying things we never meant to say_

_If I just breathe  
Let it fill the space in between  
I'll know everything is alright_

**7. Dark Blue, Jack's Mannequin**

It was the biggest party of the year. Intoxicated teenagers danced, swooned, screamed, and made-out all around him. A group of giggling girls was tailing him and random people kept coming up and slapping him high-five or cuffing him on the shoulder. But in the midst of all of the noise and commotion, Derek couldn't have felt more alone. He maneuvered his way out onto the porch for a breath of fresh air. He shut the door blocking out some of the sound. The ground was littered with empty beer cans and plastic cups, and a few couples making out. He inhaled deeply.

The door opened, and a girl came staggering on to the porch, giggling fiercely. She lurched towards him and collapsed on his chest.

"Derek," she slurred, "I l-l-looooove music. It's sooo l-l-louud…"

"Casey!" he said, alarmed, propping her up against him. "How much have you had to drink?"

"You silly," she laughed, running her hands up and down his chest, sending shivers through his body. "I don't d-drink! I just had the punch. Mmmmmm…"

"You didn't know it was spiked?" he said nervously as she wrapped her arms around him, nudging her head against his chin.

"L-look at the sky," she babbled. "It's so blueeee, Der-der. Really, really dark blueee…"

Her face was inches from his. His heartbeat quickened. It would be so easy… She leaned in closer… He could count her every eyelash…

He pushed her away.

"Come on Casey, let's get you home," he said with a resigned sigh, pulling her toward his car. Sometimes he wished Derek Venturi _didn't_ have a heart.

_I have, I have you breathing down my neck_

_I don't, don't know what you could possible expect_

_Under this condition_

_Slow down, this night's a perfect shade of_

_Dark blue, dark blue_

_Have you ever been alone in a crowded room, well I'm_

_Here with you_

**8. She Paints Me Blue, Something Corporate**

Edwin spied them through the crack in the door. He was kneeling on the floor outside his step-sister's room, his knees quickly growing sore. Edwin watched as he roughly kissed her, running a hand through her long, brown hair. She let out a low moan and leaned in closer to him, scratching her hands down his back. Just watching gave him shivers.

It wasn't fair. That should have been him in there, and could've been him. But she'd never see him like that, just as nerdy little Ed-wierdo. He'd tried so hard to impress her, but she'd just laughed, never taking him seriously. That was him, always the comedian. But seeing her alone was better than constantly seeing her with _him_. He hated how happy he made her. He hated that they were so happy together. It wasn't fair.

And now Edwin was left watching, imagining it was him kissing her senseless, but knowing that Casey would always be his. Derek's.

_Tonight I watch the lights go out in your house  
Wondering how I could get so deep  
And you could still get to sleep_

_And your my good feeling, I'm kneeling  
Inside her room she paints me blue_

**9. Heaven Forbid, The Fray**

Abby woke up in the middle of the night. She rolled over, feeling the side of the bed next to her. It was empty. She knew where her husband was. With _her_. That bitch.

She sighed and rolled back over, willing herself to fall back asleep. None of this was news. Ever since George had left her she'd begun, as Derek put it, marrying every man who rang the door bell. And she'd watched each of her marriages fail over and over again, like a vicious circle. While her own children called her a tramp, she was just afraid, so afraid, of ending up alone. Of living her life without someone beside her. And though he'd never admit it, she knew her eldest son was so very similar to her. Because both of them would rather be with the wrong person than be with nobody at all.

She closed her eyes, and waited for tomorrow to come.

_Twenty years, it's breaking you down  
Now that you understand there's no one around  
Take a breath, just take a seat  
You're falling apart and tearing at the seams  
Heaven forbid you end up alone, you don't know why  
Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright_

_It feels good (Is that reason enough for you?)_

**10. Slide, Goo Goo Dolls**

Casey spun in front of her mirror, watching tissue layers of her dress cascade down around her. It was perfect. The perfect start to a perfect night. There was a knock on her door.

Max stepped over the threshold, wearing a black tux and holding a bouquet of red roses. Her heart fell. She liked white. She rushed over to him anyway and kissed him on the lips.

"They're beautiful."

"You're beautiful," he replied. "The limousine's here to take us to the Prom and it will bring us to The Hyatt after where I got a suite."

"Max," she whispered, "I don't think I'm ready."

"What?" he said angrily. "But you said you would be by now."

"I just—" she began timidly, "I just don't think I can do this, Max. I'm sorry."

He swore loudly. "When are you going to drop the whole virgin act, Casey? Just give it up already!"

"Why is everything always about sex with you?" she cried. "I thought you loved me! You said we were meant to be together!"

"Yeah," he retorted with a disbelieving snort, "In bed."

The words stung cold and cruel. There was a silence.

"Forget it," Max said, "I'm out of here."

He left, slamming the door on the way out. Casey sank down on to her bed, tears streaming down her face. Her perfect night. Her perfect boyfriend. It had all been a sham.

There was another knock on the door. She ignored it. The person came in anyway. It was Derek.

"What do you want?" She said quietly, without the heart to fight him. "Are you here to laugh in my face, or tell me my fairy tale ending is just a bunch of bullshit?"

"I've come to take you to Prom."

She looked up. In his hand he was holding a single white rose.

_And I'll do anything you ever  
Dreamed to be complete  
Little pieces of the nothing that fall  
Oh yeah, put your arms around me  
What you feel is what you are  
And what you are is beautiful_

* * *

Hey guys

I liked doing this so much the first time I decided to go for round two. Tell me if you liked them! Anyway, I'm thinking of starting a full length story soon. I've been sticking with oneshots for now. It'll probaly have something to do with Abby... somehow I thrive on bad Abby/Derek relationships, in case you hadn't noticed (I've only thrown her in here three times... P) Ideas?

Reviews!!

--JR


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